


the waves slow down

by runswithchopsticks



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: (somewhat) angst, Alternate Universe, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Psychosis, XiuHan - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-19
Updated: 2015-07-19
Packaged: 2018-04-10 03:54:56
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4376252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runswithchopsticks/pseuds/runswithchopsticks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In a cabin on the seaside, one boy breathes. The other one lives. Minseok isn't sure which one he is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	the waves slow down

**Author's Note:**

> also on aff: [here](http://www.asianfanfics.com/story/view/990159/the-waves-slow-down-exo-luhan-xiumin-xiuhan-psychosis-mamamoo-moonbyul)

A wooden cabin is situated comfortably on the beach shore, in very close proximity to the sea. The ocean breeze flies by, ruffling the sand and various debris in its path, but thankfully the only two inhabitants in the area are underneath the roof of the cabin.

Minseok stands in the middle of the living room, head tilted upwards as he gazes at the various trophies and medals glimmering behind the glass doors of the wide oakwood cabinet. All of them have some form of etching of the name “Luhan” on their bases; years ranging from before Minseok hit his teenage era to some a year or two before current time.

He would do this often – just stand there and gaze at the gleaming mementos of achievement; for Minseok loves to bathe in the honor and glory that is Luhan, the one being he has devoted to all his love and joy that his soul is capable of; to watch and grow and learn with the boy of fluffy hair and spindly limbs from when they were only mere teenagers, Minseok lounging on his high-tiered look-out seat and Luhan looking up at him with some form of admiration and curiosity.

He recalls the day they met; the day his heart found its home.

* * *

It was almost the sixth hour Minseok had been perched upon his lifeguard’s chair, slowly melting under the scorching sun despite the flamboyantly colored umbrella shading his body. The day had passed quite uneventfully, quite odd considering the fact that up to thousands visited Venice Beach every day.

A boy, appearing to be around Minseok’s age, walks up to him. He holds one of his elbows in his other hand.

He’s scraped his elbow, the boy tells him, and asks Minseok for a Band-Aid. Minseok hopped off of his chair, extracted a Band-Aid from his backpack, and applied it to the boy’s elbow. However, before he could climb his way back into the shade of his seat, the boy lifted the lanyard slung around Minseok’s neck, finding the lifeguard’s whistle, and blowing it.

The whistle screeches powerfully, and the boy takes off on the shore, still blowing the whistle, emitting ear-piercing shrieks along the way. That day, Minseok swore he’d never deal with so many police and disgruntled civilians ever again.

* * *

Minseok’s thoughts are interrupted as Luhan appears in the doorway, holding a plate of blueberry pancakes in each hand; the scent of the sea and wind notifying him, as Luhan often smelled like that after taking a swim.

They sit across from each other, end-to-end on the rickety wooden table; as Minseok’s biting into his pancakes, Luhan speaks first, like he always does. He often reminisces of his family, of his doe-eyed little sister and tenacious childhood friend; and of Minseok, when Luhan would frequently think the other boy looked so cool and mysterious sitting atop his throne, sunglasses shielding his gaze, lips pursed. Minseok likes the sound of Luhan’s voice – so he lets the other boy speak.

After breakfast, he goes to take a shower. Luhan is gone when he comes out, but Minseok doesn’t mind – in recent times, Luhan’s been going places without him noticing, but he always returns by nighttime.

Throughout the day, Minseok busies himself. Whether he’s cleaning the cabin, walking the dogs for the elderly lady that lives just over the valley, or feeding the seagulls on the shore, he always finds something to do.

He’s halfway through organizing the closet when there’s a tentative knock on the cabin door; he opens it, and on the other side stands a small girl, holding a bouquet of spring flowers and a cream-colored envelope in the other hand.

Lately, many nearby residents and even others Minseok’s never encountered before, from small children to the weathered and matured elderly, had appeared on the doorstep, almost always offering gifts to him in the forms of flowers, chocolates, and/or letters sealed in pristine envelopes – Minseok knew he was rather popular amongst the ladies (and sometimes even men) when he was younger, but the sudden influx of pursuers has got him exasperated and slightly vexed. He takes the bouquet and envelope from the girl with a small smile and nod of thanks. When she turns and leaves, Minseok sets the bouquet and envelope on the porch chair, next to a smaller bouquet from the previous day; somehow, these things always manage to vanish themselves, and so he pays them no heed.

As he’s turning to walk back into the cabin, he notices that again there is no newspaper sitting on his porch step – the day is already well into the late afternoon, and recently the newspaper delivery boy keeps on forgetting to deliver the day’s publication. Minseok reminds himself to call the publisher’s offices sometime later.

He observes, as he’s walking back inside, that there’s a small dirt spot on one of the golden trophies inside the glass-doored cabinet, so he takes the polish rag off of its hook adjacent to the cabinet, and opens its doors, grabbing the trophy. Minseok rubs at the spot; first gently, then harshly, as the dirt’s stubborn and decides not to remove itself off of the shiny surface. It’s almost two hours later when he is finished polishing; after cleaning the first trophy, he had decided to go through every single other medallion in the cabinet.

* * *

A large splash sounds from outside; Minseok walks out the back sliding door but doesn’t notice anything out of the ordinary. He’s about to head back inside; however it’s well into the evening and the fireflies have come out to dance, so he situates himself on one of the two towels on the shore that he and Luhan had left out the previous day to watch the insects and their activities.

Minutes pass by, and Minseok is losing himself in his thoughts when Luhan reappears next to him, sitting cross-legged on the towel next to him. He apologizes with a small smile, “I was at the community pool to meet some of my fans the whole day; they love me very much, you know. I’m sorry I forgot to tell you.”

Minseok accepts the apology (he always does), and murmurs something about how beautiful the fireflies appear. Luhan stands up, and padding lightly so that his feet do not shift any sand, he walks over to a firefly, cupping his hands gently over the insect and offering it to the other. Minseok holds out his hands, and Luhan places the insect in the former’s palms – but the instant Luhan’s hands leave, the firefly shoots forward and escapes, Minseok failing to retrieve it in time.

Luhan laughs good-heartedly at Minseok’s failure, and in childish reciprocation Minseok tries to catch one for Luhan – but they all seem to be just out of reach, right as he thinks he’s got one his palms turn up empty.

Soon he gives up, and the two reside to sitting next to each other in comfortable, calming silence for a few minutes; Minseok’s making a grab for Luhan’s hand, but the other boy is already standing up. “The moon’s high in the sky,” he points out, “We should sleep.”

Minseok washes up first, for their bathroom is small and can only situate one person. He’s lying on their bed, when Luhan comes up to him. Leaning over Minseok, he kisses his face; first starting on the chin, then each cheek, the tip of the nose, and lastly each eyelid as Minseok slowly closes his eyes.

Recently, Luhan has never kissed Minseok on the lips; it leaves him itching and a little bit frustrated, but he lets those thoughts drift into the calming wash of slumber as his ears absorb the pitter-patter of the shower and Luhan’s melodious humming.

* * *

He wakes to the smell of blueberry pancakes and singing.

Minseok’s left arm reaches out to the other side of the bed but feels no warmth or body in its vicinity. Sitting up, he realizes the sheets and half of the blanket on the left side of the bed are in pristine condition, perfectly smoothed out and displayed without a single crease or wrinkle in sight – as if nobody had occupied the site since the last time the bed had been made. Minseok panics, but his thoughts are distracted as Luhan walks into the bedroom, arms outstretched with an offering of pancakes.

* * *

Luhan disappears again for the day. Minseok thinks he should be worried, but somehow he isn’t.

Byul Yi, Minseok’s younger sister, appears later that day, several bags of groceries and snacks in hand. When Minseok opens the door for her, she is hiding something behind her back – it’s a newspaper, Minseok realizes. He reaches for it, and as he’s trying to tug the bundle out of her hands he catches a glimpse of the cover photo. It’s a picture of Luhan, he registers, standing on the top tier of a podium at the previous summer Olympic Games. He’s smiling, a bundle of flowers held in one hand, the other hand showing off the gold medal hung around his neck.

To Minseok’s frustrations, Byul Yi pulls the paper out of his grip just as he discerns the photo. She begins to run, her legs taking her around the cabin and behind to the sea. Nonetheless, Minseok still manages to catch her, and he grips her by the elbow, his hold tightening by the second; nobody, especially his own sister, should hide anything about _his_ Luhan from him, principally if it is a matter important enough to be published in any sort of public printing.

Small whimpers and yelps of pain tumble out of Byul Yi’s mouth, and Minseok loosens his clutch slightly, allowed the girl to wiggle her arm out of the way, where in one smooth movement she thrusts the papers out into the water. They flutter in the air for a few seconds, before being dragged into the sea by the rolling of waves.

Minseok stands stock still as he watches the papers float away; he’s not sure how to react, to scold his sister for such an act, to rage and throw himself into polishing Luhan’s trophies again, or to simply forget and sulk elsewhere.

Byul Yi moves closer to his side; she murmurs something about being sorry and Luhan winning an award, wanting to tell Minseok himself. Minseok hums in satisfaction (he’s always proud of his Luhan, no matter what the other boy may do), all his emotion earlier evaporated and settled into a content hum in his chest.

“Brother, are you eating well? You look a bit thin and pale,” Byul Yi whispers. Minseok nods, wide smile appearing on his face as he tells her that _indeed_ , Luhan cooks for him every day and he gets to enjoy his delicious creations. Her only response is staring at him for a few seconds – Minseok swears that for a moment she looks worried, but all that is washed away as she leans on her toes to run her dainty hand through his hair, patting him on the head and murmuring, “of course.”

The two then walk together back into the cabin; Byul Yi grabs the bags she left on the porch, heading into the kitchen to busy herself to the point where Minseok does not see her for the rest of the day. He decides to open up his laptop, and out of habit he browses to the forums for Luhan’s fans.

He likes to submerge himself in Luhan, whether physically or emotionally; Luhan to him is his everything, and immersing himself with people who share that same notion with him, people who will talk and praise and laugh about Luhan with him gives him a sense of tranquility, and, even though some may strike Minseok as strange, it also gives him odd enjoyment.

It is well into nighttime by the time Minseok decides he’s done posting and browsing the forums.

Luhan is not yet home; Minseok texts him, but a few minutes later that has not yet brought about any reply. He calls Luhan a few times afterwards just for good measure, but that avails naught – for the past few days Luhan hasn’t been picking up his phone or reading his messages, and Minseok has asked Byul Yi about it once; she simply told him that Luhan is forgetful (which is not unlike the boy at all). Thus, Minseok decides to brush it off and head to bed – Luhan always ends up returning, anyways.

* * *

The clock on the side of the bed tells him it’s two hours and some past midnight when he wakes up. Minseok's not sure why his eyes are open, or why he’s sitting up, or why his legs are moving him out the back sliding door and down the deck steps; but something is tugging on his arms and legs and chest and it won’t go away.

When he stands on the shore, at the edge where the waves lick the beach sand clean and froth sinks its teeth into the land, the tugging stops.

Luhan stands in the sea, water lapping lazily at his waist; one hand of his is outstretched, a playful grin plastered on his face.

“Join me,” he says to Minseok, flexing his fingers on his extended hand. Minseok is unsure, he hesitates for a moment, shouting out to Luhan that the water is much too cold to go out for a midnight swim, and that Luhan should be inside the comfort of their home, wrapped in Minseok’s arms and slumbering away. But Luhan repeats those two words again; Minseok finds his resistance slipping, for this is _Luhan_ ; the only person he trusts and loves more than himself, with a silly grin fanning his small face and eyes crinkled into half-moons; Minseok cannot say no.

He finds himself taking a step into the water; one foot after another, letting his toes sink into the flexile and soft sea floor as the idle waves slowly wash themselves over him – oddly enough, he does not feel cold, but nor does he feel warmth.

Now waist-deep into the sea, he takes Luhan’s hand. The other boy starts to walk backwards, letting the water engulf more and more of his body, and thusly Minseok as well, never letting go of each other’s hands. As Luhan’s head submerges under the waves, Minseok’s does as well – the sea floor slips from beneath his feet, water gently pulling him forward, and rocking him side-to-side in rhythmic cycles.

Minseok thinks, closing his eyes, relaxing his shoulders; he quite likes it here, beneath the elixir of water and night bathed in a sliver of crescent moon, holding the hand of the boy who emits the fragrance of the tranquil waves and the mighty wind, as the sea pulls him further and further into its dark, captivating depths.

* * *

Byul Yi stands up from her spot on the shore, brushing a strand of hair away from her face, only for it to be blown into her line of sight again by the whistling wind. _It’s almost time_ , she realizes, the paperboy should have finished his route in this area by now.

She is correct, as there’s the newspaper, held together by a rubber band, sitting innocently on the front porch. Grabbing it, she glances quickly at the cover and shrugs, dropping the bundle into the trash can at the edge of the property, also noticing the bouquets and envelopes sitting on the rocking chair along the way, dropping them into the metal bin as well.

Slowly, she unlocks the cabin door and makes her way into its main room, her path instantly paving its route to the kitchen out of habit.

She pauses for a moment, recalling what she had seen on the newspaper’s cover page before she had thrown it away.

Byul Yi remembers.

 _Right_ , she doesn’t have to make blueberry pancakes anymore.


End file.
